Ficlet Collection
by zephtastic
Summary: A collection of zephtastic's ficlets and drabbles. Has Kirk/McCoy, gen, and strong themes. ENJOY
1. Getting Dark

I've got a lotta ficlets lying around that I would like to post but haven't because they're to short yo deserve their own story.

So, I got the brilliant idea (I hate it) to post all of them in one story all on it's own.

Here you go, then.

**ENJOY.**

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Title: Getting Dark

Word Count: 270

Warnings: Gen, possibly pre-slash and drunkenness.

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Jim leaned against Bones drunkenly, gesturing at his friend with a slosh of his beer. "So whaddya say, huh?" he asked slowly. "You n' me, Bones? I think we shuld-d try it, yanno? Try to be ta-ta-tagther."

Bones stared blearily back at Jim, squinting his eyes in an attempt to focus the blurry yellow blob Jim had become. "No, no," he said, holding up a hand to push Jim away but just ended up planting his palm against Jim's face. "No, no, no…no."

"Why not?" Jim sputtered from behind Bones' hand, trying to push it away but only unsettling himself in his stool and nearly tipping over. He barely saved himself by grabbing the bar with both hands. "I think, I think we'd be good." He snickered, leaning back against Bones. "Gooood. So _good_. Good."

"No," Bones repeated, he lowered his head and squinched his eyes closed, then raised it without opening his eyes and dropped it again. He tried in vain to remember what he was going to say. "No," he said suddenly as he remembered, Jim—who had lost interest—jumped and turned unbalanced in Bones' direction. "You don't wanna walk down this road, kid." Bones jabbed a finger against Jim's cheek. "It'ssa long, long way back," he said and turned his finger to point to the other side of the room, a mere ten feet away. "And it's gettin' dark."

The lights in the bar had actually just gone out, then, and they both toppled over in surprise as the bartender bellowed for them to get out. They landed on the floor in a hard, laughing pile.

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**IF YOU PLAN ON REVIEWING**: do me a favor and please, pretty please, review on the specific chapter with the story you liked. Not the last chapter of them all.

**THANK YOU!**


	2. What's Up?

Title: What's Up

Word Count: 1,099

Warnings: Heavily implied slash, general bad humor.

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Things had been going pretty well today, so when Jim made his appearance in sickbay McCoy didn't _immediately_ feel grouchy. Jim grinned and walked over to him, waving jovially as if they hadn't just seen each other that morning at breakfast.

"Hey there!" Jim said as he finally made it to the station Bones was currently accessing. The doctor glanced at him in acknowledgement. "Could I get your help with something?"

Bones sighed and stepped away from the station, Jim sounded sincere enough to warrant his full attention. "Yeah, sure," he said and met Jim's eyes curiously. "What's up?"

"Just my erection!" Jim exclaimed in his all too familiar 'Zing!' voice. McCoy looked unimpressed so he tried to impress upon the hilarity of his joke by pointing at Bones as he winked in unison. His friend's face did not get any more amused but nor did it become angry.

Instead, McCoy just looked down to Jim's pants and took in the obvious bulge at his crotch all rather calmly. "I'm not helping you with that."

"Don't play hard to get," Jim was on a roll.

"How bored can you be to have to come all the way down here—"

"Oh god," Jim bemoaned; grin crumpling as he suddenly gripped McCoy's shoulders and hung his head between them. "There's nothing going on anywhere and I just wanted to talk to somebody and you're my best friend and I'm really, really hard and—"

"Please," Bones was completely deadpan as he reached up to grip Jim's elbows. "Stop humping my leg. You're giving my staff ideas."

Jim didn't stop humping Bones' leg but he did lift his head to meet Chapel's gaze across the room. He leered at her and she rolled her eyes, turning crisply on her heel to walk back into the supply closet. "They like the ideas, Bones," Jim said, turning that leer onto Bones now. "Most excitement they've had from you in a while."

Somehow, Bones easily removed himself from Jim's rutting grasp and stepped away, unruffled. "You'd be surprised," he replied with a smug smirk. The captain was completely flustered and a little jealous about that, and it showed in his obvious but brief pout. "If you still have that," Bones said as he leant in close to Jim and glanced down between them at Jim's crotch, his voice a private husky drawl that nearly did help Jim with his erection. "'_Problem_' by the end of shift?" Jim nodded dumbly. "Then come to my office and I'll have a solution for all that ails you."

If anyone noticed how Jim fidgeted and squirmed in his captain's chair all through the last four hours of shift they never mentioned it. He all but ran when time finally came, fidgeting with just the same impatience through the entire turbolift ride, and then again bolting down the halls to sickbay. He rounded the corner through the door and all about spun Chapel around as he passed her. Hastily he threw an apology over his shoulder, not taking the time to acknowledge her indignant response, before he was breaching past the half-open door of McCoy's office.

The man himself was leaning against his desk, reading a PADD with apparent disinterest and didn't look up when Jim entered. Jim panted, a little winded by his eagerness, heading straight for Bones' guest chair to sit down. Bones did look up then, with a sarcastic expression.

"Yes, by all means, sit down," he drawled. "Shift ended three minutes ago, Jim, I didn't think you were that desperate."

"Not desperate," Jim corrected and held up a hand as if to ward off all further assumptions to that effect. "Just very horny. Also, very hard. Also," he gave McCoy a slow once over, and an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows, "has anyone told well you fill in those scrubs, Bones?"

Jim got a glimmer of amusement and an unfulfilled smile, a great success. "Thanks, Jim," Bones said and dropped his PADD onto his desk. He sauntered over to Jim, giving the blond the same slow visual assessment. Jim shifted and leaned back in the chair, trying to appear as open and inviting as possible. However, Bones' eyes only focused on one area and Jim couldn't help but shift his hips upward under the hot stare. "You seem to be doing a pretty good job at filling in things yourself."

The next few moments seemed to play in slow motion as Bones leaned over Jim, one hand on the arm rest and the other hovering dangerously over Jim's crotch. Jim bit his lip, resisting the urge to push up into that palm. You're a big boy, he berated himself mentally, and you can play this game just as well as Bones can!

But then, inexplicably, Bones coughed and suddenly was full out laughing with both arms braced on either side of Jim as his shoulders shook with it. Jim stared in wide-eyed dubious shock at the sight. His brain had a hard time going from 'holycrapsoturnedon' to 'whatthefuck' but it eventually made it just in time for Bones to actually, literally _snort_.

"Oh god," Bones breathed and his shoulders shook some more as he repressed more laughter. "Did you see Chapel's face earlier? Later she came to me and asked why every time you were in sickbay you seemed to have the delusion that you were in a porno." His breath hissed through his teeth and he chuckled, his head finally rising up.

Jim wanted to be angry, horny and still unfulfilled but he wasn't. He wasn't because Bones' eyes had laugh lines and his mouth had dimples. He sighed long-suffering, slouching back in the chair. "I'm glad you find this so funny," Jim said. "But this better mean you're still gonna blow me."

Bones chuckled again, but this time it was deeper, resonating from his chest, and downright dirty. Interest stirred in Jim again as the hazel-eyes trained on him darkened. "I promised, didn't I?"


	3. Enabler Sucks

Title: Enablers Suck

Word Count: 317

Warnings: Implied sex

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Finally, finally after what felt weeks upon days upon ihours/i of waiting Bones had finally gotten Jim right where he wanted him. He'd been watching the captain at it all damn day. Sucking on his stylus pen one second and then in lunch, getting a totally unnecessary straw for his beverage just to suck on that. The list of things went on and on, Jim's oral fixation knowing no bounds. All the frustration and tension led to a wonderful climax: Jim on his knees in Bones' quarters ready and willing to use that mouth properly. Except for some reason Jim wasn't on his knees and was instead staring at McCoy.

"You're an enabler," Jim accused as if struck by realization. They had been at this for almost a month now and it had taken Jim that long to realize this.

"Goddamnit, Jim," McCoy groaned and dropped his head back against the wall behind him. "Can you please just shut up and get on with it."

There wasn't a response. He peeked open an eye and Jim was still staring at him peevishly. "Fuckin' hell…" Bones mumbled under his breath. "You like putting things in your mouth don't you?" he asked, utterly exasperated. He got a slow, suspicious nod. "Then I've got something you can suck on." Jim didn't look convinced. "In my pants," Bones felt he had to clarify.

"Isn't the point," Jim began conversationally. "For you, as my doctor, to keep me from destructive behavior and feeding my addiction?"

"Jim," Bones said with Great Patience. "This isn't destructive behavior."

"But you won't deny that you're feeding my addiction?" the captain countered.

McCoy wasn't even sure where to begin with that one. "Damnit, Jim!" he snapped and bared his teeth at Jim, just angry now. "I'm fucking codependent! Just suck my cock already!"


	4. Domesticity

Title: Domesticity

Word Count: 387

Warnings: Fluff, implied-slash

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"Bones, hey, Bones, wait a second."

Bones sighed, stopping in the entrance of the bathroom and turning to stare at Kirk in annoyance. "What? I already did my hair—" he began, a vain grumble of a protest despite the strong grip on his wrist that was reeling him back into the bathroom.

"No, no," Jim insisted, bringing them toe to toe and Bones face to face with his ever brilliant smile. "You never do your hair right anymore."

"Damnit, Jim, I'm a doctor. I don't need to look pretty for anybody—"

"Wrong," Jim said firmly, eyes trained upwards as he smoothed his hands through McCoy's hair, fingers carefully combing the hair to fall just as Jim wanted. It felt good, having those warm capable hands in his hair. Bones frowned against the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth but didn't stop himself from leaning into Jim's touch.

"If you say anything about me needing to look pretty for you, I will kick you."

Jim chuckled, minty-freshly brushed breath ghosting over Bones' mouth. "Okay, I won't."

Then it was all over. Without another word, Jim's hands extracted themselves from Bones' hair and with a quick kiss he left the bathroom. Bones stood still a second longer and turned to look at his reflection in the mirror, a semblance of checking to see what Jim had messed up.

Somehow, it had managed to make itself a part of their morning routine. They got up, showered (respectively), brushed their teeth, used the bathroom and got dressed, ending with Jim "fixing" his hair. Sure, the dialogue was always different and sometimes Jim was sitting on the sink while he did it or McCoy was still brushing his teeth, but the emotion was always the same.

It seemed to be the cherry on the top of their domesticity cake. Bones truly had resisted it with as much stubborn denial as he could muster, but there was no denying that they were a couple of a very domestic persuasion.

"You are such a sap," he told his reflection. It did nothing to quell the distinct gooey melt in his chest.

"Yeah, but it's worth making you look good," Jim said, head poking into the bathroom from around the door. "Now come on, Bonsey, we're gonna be late."


	5. Battle Axe

Title: Battle Axe

Word Count: 306

Warnings: Violence and strong language

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Trying to figure out how they got themselves into situations like this had proven to be futile and Bones had dropped the bad habit gratefully many years ago. However, it seemed, he still couldn't help but wonder again as he barely dodged out of the way of the swing of spear aimed at his head.

The strange bug-man thing screeched in displeasure that the human's head wasn't on the end of his pointy stick and took aim again. Bones scrambled away, looking around wildly for his Captain and Spock. He spotted them, a ways away, crouched behind a pillar and engaged in a shoot out. Spock spotted McCoy and said something to Jim, who whipped around and managed to yell something.

Bones didn't hear it though, as the whoosh of the spear head past his ear completely blocked the sound. He grunted and fell back against the wall, tripping over the fallen body of one of the space pirates--Bones' mind balked, fucking space pirates!--and he was caught, stuck between the bug-man and a hard place.

He had no idea how, but he somehow managed to dodge the next blow, dropping into a roll and picking up his own spear in the process. The spear tipped forward heavily and Bones looked wildly to the end of it--and it was a battle axe. He had managed to pick up a mother fucking battle axe. The bug-man gave another ear-splitting screech and lunged. Bones stepped back from the spear, swung the large axe around and brought the business end smack down between the alien's eyes.

"Holy shit, Bones!" Jim yelled, suddenly at his elbow and looking far happier than he should be. McCoy jumped and dropped the axe, still lodged in the bug-man's head. The pirate fell over with a clatter. "You battled axed that bitch!"


	6. Sick Induced Variables

Title: Sick Induced Variables

Word Count: 273

Warnings: None!

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"Booones," Jim whined nasally, dropping his head heavily onto the desk next to Bones' elbow. "My nose is running."

"Go catch it," Bones mumbled distractedly and clearly paying more attention to his studying than the poor sick Jim beside him.

Jim groaned as if pained, expression sour. "Booones," he whined again.

"Sorry," Bones replied, glancing sidelong at Jim. "You thought it was funny yesterday."

"Yesterday I had a _feeever_," was the even nasally reply. Jim had taken to holding his nose shut to ebb the flow of snot. "Today I don't. You need new shtick."

Bones made a disgusted face, pushing Jim's head away with his elbow. "Get away from me, you're leaking your goo everywhere," he said, grabbing what few clean tissues he could spot and hurriedly wiping up the mess Jim had left on the desk. "You should be in bed, asleep and not bothering me. Jesus, Jim, it's just a cold."

"Nooooooo," Jim whined, slowly lying down on the floor. "I'm dyying, Bones. Dyyyyyiinnngggggg." He stretched his arms out and squirmed, then made a final moan before falling still.

Bones watched the entire show with a dry expression. "You're dead, Jim," he announced dully before turning back to his PADDs. "Now I can finally get back to studying more serve illness I'll never have to treat bimbo blonds for."

"I am not a bimbo!" Jim protested sitting up immediately. He groaned as a result, sniffling loudly and wetly. He grabbed a tissue and mopped at his nose, eyes suddenly watering. "Look, I'm crying, Bones. You're a terrible person. I'm dead and snotty and crying."

"I hate you."

"Boo, hoo, hooooooooo."


	7. Remember the Time

Title: Remember the Time

Word Count: 401

Warnings: Strong language

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"Do you remember, when we fell in love, we were young, and innocent then..."

McCoy hadn't heard the song in forever. He had just gotten out of the shower, still slightly damp and clad only in a small regulation towel but...He really loved this song. It wasn't one of the King of Pop's most popular songs but it still had a beat that couldn't be denied.

Quickly he sent a precursor look around to see if he really was alone in his room before snapping his fingers with the beat. The dance was much easier in comparison to ones like Thriller, except—of course--for the break dance parts (he was too old for that now anyway). He brought his heels together and raised his palms up, hopping in place slightly to find the beat in the song before smoothly breaking into dance.

Each knee up with a single drop of the head to the side and then rock back onto your heels and rotate hips, head and toes all to the left. From there the steps came back to him easily and the dance moved through him as the song continued. The song picked up pace and Leonard spun around and came face to face with Jim.

"Shit!" he gasped, stumbling away from the grinning blond man.

"Holy crap, Bones!" Jim exclaimed, catching McCoy by the arm to steady him. "I didn't know you could dance!"

Bones felt his ears heat and he yanked his arm away from Jim, scowling. "Yeah well...whatever!" he snapped, whirling back around and shutting the radio off. "Don't you have someplace to be? Like some unbeatable test to beat or something?"

"Nah," Jim said casually, leaning against Bones' desk and grinning. "Much rather watch you dance in the nude."

"I am not—" Bones turned to growl, spotting the crumpled towel on the floor. Now his face was hot and it didn't help that the goddamn boy wonder was laughing at him.

"Oh relax, old man," Jim cajoled, moving across the room to Bones and picking up the towel on the way. "We got the same bits, right? Anyway…teach me to dance?"

McCoy eyed him wearily before sighing and nodding. "I'll teach you a dance," he said, resigned. "But not naked."

"I completely disagree, I think that if you ever plan on teaching anyone anything ever—it should be naked.

"Fuck you, Jim."


	8. Desperado

Title: Desperado

Word Count: 343

Warnings: Angsty, AU

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There were many things in Leonard McCoy's life that he regretted. The most pungent and repetitive was the simple act of signing his name. He hated himself every time he signed it on James Kirk's release forms, giving the man the ability to go right back out into that rodeo and hurt himself all over again. He wondered if it went against his oath but Jim loved it so much it was more to hurt him by saying 'no.'

"Damnit, Jim," McCoy sighed without much ire, head hung over his delicate work of rewrapping Jim's wrist. "You think you would have learned by now."

Jim leant forward and pressed his forehead against McCoy's. "I've learned plenty, Bones," Jim said.

"Yeah, it really shows," Bones bit back, sarcastic. "Shows in all your damned bruises and broken bones. Shows every goddamn time you climb on a bronco."

The blond cowboy had the grace to look sheepish but there was no real guilt in the expression. McCoy sighed again and finished up his handiwork before stepping back from the bed. Jim grinned and slid forward off the bed, boots hitting the linoleum floor with a click.

"How much longer, do you suppose?" Jim asked, rubbing the bandages on his wrist.

"Not long enough that you'll miss the fourth," Bones replied, cleaning up the mess from caring for Jim.

Jim whooped in response and slapped McCoy on the shoulder with his good hand. "You?" he asked rhetorically. "Are the best."

Bones snorted, shutting the spare bandages in a drawer with a distinct snap. "Of course I am, Jim," he replied, quirking a small smile at his friend.

If Jim noticed that there wasn't any joy in the statement, he didn't show it. He grinned again and snapped his fingers, pointing at Bones' face. "See you soon," he jokingly promised and then left.

McCoy turned and watched out the window until the cowboy appeared and sauntered to his truck. After the truck had grumbled down the road out of sight, the doctor turned and left the examination room.


	9. Sway

Title: Sway

Word Count: 350

Warnings: none

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He just breathes, nearly on the side of swooning, but he can't really blame himself for it. The sunset is painting the world around him in a brilliant golden-red fresco, sand is itching itself against his thighs, and the Pacific is lapping at his toes. It's nearly perfect and he's ready to argue that point until there is the quiet sound of crunching sand behind him and a familiar sigh accompanying it.

Beside him, McCoy settles into the sand, sitting cross legged and holding a beer loosely in one hand. Bones tips his head back as he drinks from the bottle eyes shut until his eyes open halfway to meet Jim's. The bottle moves away from his lips and in its place is a smile that's all Jim's and he can't help but return it, slowly.

Around them, the world turns dark and the ocean quiets, the sand in its constant annoyance subsiding. Warmth bubbles in Jim's chest, like something bursts inside him, but he can't bring himself to care because it's perfect now. In the end, as all things fall away and he's left with nothing but himself and Bones, everything is still perfect. Their hands meet as the last sliver of sunlight dips beneath the horizon, followed soon by lips and then so much more skin. Bones laughs quietly and the illusion is broken and Jim is aware of the sand grinding between them, and that he can barely even see Bones' face in front of him it has gotten so dark.

"Come on, Jim," Bones cajoles and pulls Jim to his feet. Jim allows himself to be lifted upward but grabs Bones' hands to stop them from moving any further.

"Wait, no, shh, just wait." They do, falling silent, Bones' breaths a constant presence against his cheek and his own in kind against Bones' jaw. Then suddenly their world is brought back into focus by silver, crystalline light and they look up, into the full face of the moon. Jim smiles and Bones' breath stutters. They sway together, under the moon as the stars slowly blink into existence.


	10. Going to the Opera

Title: Gone to the Opera

Word Count: 975

Warnings: EXPLICIT HET SEX, masturbation

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Kirk believes it is a privilege, as Bones one and only best friend, to think about him having sex. Okay, sure, it's a little bit out of the norm for most best-friend-arrangements but neither Jim nor Leonard has ever been anything normal. He also believes he has a right to imagine such thing due heavily with the fact that Bones rarely ever seems to ihave/i sex.

This makes the imagining part fall a little short, considering he has no source material beyond Bones himself and thinking any further up that alley is just a bad idea. So, Jim's thoughts of Bones and sex together start at 'I wonder if he's actually asexual' and contemplating the idea that one day a piece of Bones will fall off and there will be two grumpy doctors around. From there they end up going to the women Bones would look good with except Jim gets caught in that all these women are just women he's fucked. After that, none of them really seem worthy of Bones, fantasy or not.

Due to that the whole endeavor becomes pointless and he abandons it entirely. Surely Jim had no idea that he was completely oblivious in the matter. If you had asked him that very morning if he was an authority on the sex life of one Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy he would have told you with upmost certainty he was. (Although he would also be inclined to beg the question as to why you were making such an inquiry and whether or not you were single.)

Jim found out, just seconds ago, however, that he had been so completely naïve about Bones. Naïve about the Bones who's currently anything but celibate as he's buried balls deep into a vocal young blonde who's bouncing with every thrust. Jim is also a complete idiot for any assumption he's made about Bones and sex. There is nothing even vaguely vanilla about the scene in front of him.

The room they're in is the laundry room of Bones and Jim's dorm, though the washing machines are silent right now. Nobody goes in here but it is accessible to anybody with a dorm key, making it basically completely public to anyone with their mind on some clean whitey-tighties. Jim would have never even begun to think that Bones enjoyed the thrills of public sex let alone acted upon them.

Yet here he was, watching as Bones held some woman against the concrete wall and fuck her brains out. It must have been working because the blonde—it imust/i be Luanne, a nurse in medical—is gripping hard at McCoy's shoulders, tugging and pulling on Bones' shirt. Her long legs are wrapped tight around Bones' slim waist and this brings Jim's eyes to the round, well-defined muscles of Bones' ass as they work. His eyes linger there, as if hypnotized, until Louise(?) shrieks as she comes.

Bones gives his own grunt, wrenched deep from his chest that makes fire burn in Jim's belly, and comes as well deep within the woman. Jim barely has time to snap back to reality before he's running back up the stairs. His mind is rushing fast, cycling around from Bones to the blonde to the hard on in his pants. The image of the couple, he's sure, is going to be burned on to his retinas for the next few weeks. Their presence always there whenever he closes his eyes.

He heads straight to the dorm room he shares with Bones, stripping off clothes as soon as the door slides shut behind him. The shower is a welcome release, quite literally, as he takes his dick in hand and pumps it hard and fast. As he presses his hand into the wall and bites his lip around the moans struggling out his throat, his thoughts are full of Bones. The blonde downstairs becomes him, pressed hard against the wall with Bones pounding hard in fast to him. Jim can almost feel the scratch of concrete on his back and the burn of his thighs as his hips work to meet Bones' thrusts.

Jim comes hard against the shower stall, shuddering with the exertion. The intensity of the orgasm leaves him panting, still leaning against the wall for support and staring blankly at the shower curtain. Its then he hears the sound of movement from the room outside. He freezes, listening intently to the distinct sounds of Bones moving around the bedroom. Slowly he shuts the water off and steps out of the stall, goosebumps spreading over his skin at the sudden chill.

Luckily there are clean towels. He eagerly wraps one around his waist and steps out of the bathroom. Bones is already in his night clothes, sitting on the end of his bed. He looks up at the whirr of the bathroom door, eyes meeting Jim's. Dread builds in Jim's chest at Bones' near unreadable expression before his eyes land on the familiar jacket and—

"You dropped this," Bones says suddenly, holding the jacket up. A smirk curls his lips, a foreign expression to Jim that looks right at home on Bones' face. His eyes are predatory, igniting the fire in Jim's belly again. "Next time you should say something, we'll make a better show of it," Bones continues and there's something about his throaty drawl that's different. So much about this Bones that is different. He gets to his feet slowly and clears the distance between them in two steps. Jim can feel the heat from Bones' body.

His breath catches in his throat as he watches, frozen in place, as Bones hand grips the white terrycloth. With barely a whisper, the towel falls to the floor revealing Jim's arousal. Jim gasps and looks up, straight into Bones' dark eyes. "And I'll help you with this after."


	11. Beard

Title: Beard

Word Count: 224

Warnings: Language

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Finally, after a long day of returning to the Enterprise after a long shore leave on Earth, Jim and Bones could settle in for the night. It had been a reunion for them both, Jim having had to spend the time at Starfleet while McCoy visited Georgia.

Bones had thought they were going to jump straight into bed and give each other a proper 'hello' but Jim made no move to agree after the suggestion was made. He stood between Bones and their bed, arms crossed.

"I didn't to say anything earlier, around everyone else but: _What the fuck is that_?" Jim hissed giving Bones' beard a disgustedly amused look. "What did you do? Go back to Georgia, kill the first animal you saw and hang it on your face?"

Bones was offended, hand snapping up to press against his beard. He couldn't believe Jim was having a reaction like this to his facial hair. Sure, he'd let it grow out a little long but still… "Jim, it was winter and—"

"I don't care," he said, laughter in his voice though it wasn't really amused anymore. "Shave it off. Immediately."

"Damnit, Jim," Bones snapped, irritation clear. He stomped off, heading towards the bathroom.

"And what are you _wearing_?"


	12. Easy Rider

Title: Easy Rider  
Word Count: 154  
Warnings: None

* * *

He presses the heel of his hand into his thigh and sits back, head tipping up to the cold night sky above. Len pretends he can see the Enterprise from here, see his new home from where he sits but he knows it isn't true that he is looking in the entirely wrong direction. He still pretends despite and takes a deep breath. "She's waiting up there for us, Jim," he exhales. Beside him the world shifts and Jim comes into focus above him. There are leaves and grass in his hair from when they'd taken a nap in the grass earlier; his blue eyes are bright against the light of the moon. There, now he can see Enterprise, reflected in deep shades of blue and he can taste the freedom on his lips as Jim kisses him. Len brushes his hands through Jim's hair and the leaves fall away, taking Earth with them.


	13. Sudden Revelations

Title: Sudden Revelations  
Word Count: 591  
Warnings: Schmoopiness

* * *

It comes to him quite suddenly one morning in the bathroom as he stands at the sink staring at his blurred reflection in the mirror, brushing his teeth. The jolt of it doesn't come from the revelation itself but from Jim's elbow as he accidentally smacks him on his way past in the small bathroom that they not only have to share together, but with Spock, too. Jim elbows past, still half asleep, and stands at the toilet to relieve himself without pause or hesitation.

On normal mornings, Len wouldn't have even considered such an action or even have really acknowledged it just grunted out a grouch in response to the elbow to his kidney and gone on brushing his teeth. However, something strikes him this morning, causing the monotonous movements of his toothbrush to stop and he stares at Jim out of the corner of his eye. Jim doesn't really seem to be paying attention to anything other than the blank face of the cabinet above the toilet as he pees and yawns and scratches himself just on any other day.

Len realizes he is alone in his revelation, or perhaps even, possibly late on the uptake. He doesn't fight it though. The last time, he tells himself as he watches Jim reach for the lever to flush, he ever felt this way so blissfully unaware of the cramped space of one shared bathroom had been with Jocelyn. When he was _married_.

Jim walks, which is more of just steps over from in front of the toilet to in front of the sink and squeezes into the space next to Len. It is a tight fit but they've managed it every morning for the past one and half years. Jim brushes with his left hand to accommodate. He gets started on that now, going through the motions without really seeing them just as Len had earlier, except now Len sees it. He knows the very taste of that toothpaste intimately, it's some strange cherry mint thing that Len doesn't ever want to brush with but secretly loves the taste on Jim's tongue.

He continues to watch as Jim clears the condensation off the mirror from Len's shower earlier that Len left there purposefully just for this reason because he knows that Jim likes to do just that. Their eyes meet in the reflection and Jim's got toothpaste all down his chin already as his electronic toothbrush hangs out the side of his mouth, and Len can see that Jim sees there's something wrong. There's a question in his blue eyes as he picks the toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth out and starts to brush.

Len leans over and spits and rinses his mouth, always much cleaner about it then Jim has ever been because he hates the drooling mess to get on his clothes even if they are just pajamas. He takes a deep breath, their eyes meet again, and "Will you marry me, Jim?"

Jim doesn't balk, spit-take or punch him as he would in any fantasies Len'd envisioned before his morning. He simply continues on brushing his teeth but his eyes are looking around the bathroom at their shared confines, the little details of their domesticity. Jim spits into the sink, cleans his chin off and turns to look Len in the eyes. "Yes."

It didn't seem a long time coming or something they had missed like Len's revelation, it just was the next step. Something like a completion of what they'd built together.


	14. Crooked

Title: Crooked  
Word Count: 267  
Warnings: Debauchery

* * *

Jim is pressed against the wall making quiet, almost maudlin noises that are a mix between a whimper and a sigh. He's got on a ridiculous pair of kahki slacks on and a sweater vest of all things, but those aren't what really make McCoy's skin burn. No, it's the plain, square frames that are perched on Jim's nose. Jim makes some sort of panting moan and Leonard can almost taste it.

But he doesn't, he stands back away from Jim and watches instead. Watches how debauched and wanton he's made Jim. Jim who came here to his office with teases of TAs and their naughty cadets, promises of the lengths he'd go to for that golden 'A.' Leonard was smug, oh so very smug, at how he had turned the tables.

He steps forward now, moving closer to Jim who stares at him open-mouthed and wide eyed, the blue of his eyes so much bluer through the dark frames. The glasses glint in the light and they slip further down Jim's nose at a crooked angle. McCoy takes in his own shuddering breath that Jim echoes, amazed by how a simple pair of glasses could invoke such a reaction from him.

No, that isn't entirely correct, it's Jim, too. Jim can make damn near anything sexually appealing. Their mouths crash together as Jim catches him by the collar of his shirt and the frames sear into his skin just as hot as Jim's erection digging into his thigh. 'Yeah,' he thinks as he pulls Jim back towards the desk behind him, 'we are idefinitely/i keeping these.'


	15. It's all right

Title: It's all right  
Word Count: 234  
Warnings: Schmoop

* * *

On some mornings, Leonard wakes up to Jim singing. His lover always wakes before he does as a rule because if there's one thing Leonard detests most, its mornings. But Jim always quietly found a way to slip out of bed and go about whatever it was he did so early in the morning without disturbing the sleeping Leonard. Sometimes, though, just an hour before Leonard's arm is about to chime, Jim sits at his desk or leans against the wall and sings to himself.

On some mornings it's just humming, other mornings Leonard can't make out the words but can barely make out the movement of Jim's lips in the murky light. This morning, Jim is standing over him but his eyes are closed. Leonard can barely make out the movement of Jim's face, which is slightly cast in shadow from the way his head is bent reverently over where Leonard lay. He strains to hear, almost wondering if Jim is praying, but then Jim's eyes open and see Leonard and a smile spreads across his lips. Leonard sits up and his hands find purchase around Jim, pulling him close and pressing his face against the fabric of Jim's shirt. The quiet, steady sound of Jim's voice seems to be the only sound in the room.

"_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,  
and I say it's all right  
It's all right_"


	16. Stuck between

Title: Stuck between  
Word Count: 131  
Warnings: **Kirk/McCoy/Scotty**

* * *

Leonard likes to think it's funny how he ended up here, pressed between two different slumbering bodies in various degrees of undress both snoring in their own, unique out of tune sync. He isn't sure what woke him so suddenly in the night but his fingers curl around two hands of different sizes, each with their own feel. As carefully as he can he brings each hand to his lips and he kisses the knuckles of both of them. Jim shifts minutely, head restlessly turning onto Leonard's shoulder and Leonard spies the white of his eyes in the dark. Scotty's free hand winds its way around Leonard's waist and he looks that way, feels the curl of Scotty's smile against his shoulder. He sighs, _there, that's better_ and drifts back to sleep.


	17. Seldom Made Passes

Title: Seldom Made Passes  
Word Count: 966  
Warnings: **PORN, GLASSES KINK**

* * *

Jim pushes him down against the desk, his breath a hot, rapid crescendo constant against the skin of Leonard's neck. They separate. Leonard drops his head down against the desk with a thump that is drowned out by the sound of the moan he lets out as he takes in Jim's face hungrily.

It's the damned glasses that are doing this to him. He spent the entire lecture trying his hardest (quite literally) to ignore Jim. Jim who came into class wearing the plain, square frames and sat just shy of the back of the room, just barely on the cusp of Leonard's peripheral vision but still managing to somehow wholly distract his attention. Beyond this, Jim did nothing out of the norm. He took notes as he always did and even raised his hand to ask iquestions/i. Dr. McCoy found himself every time not quite looking at Jim as he answered each question, not one out of line or to in any way imply Jim was aware of what he had been putting Leonard through.

Retribution was swift though. As soon as every last cadet had filed out of the small lecture hall, Leonard had taken two fistfuls of Jim's uniform in hand and shoved their mouths together. Not much talking has happened between then and now, beyond quiet breathless sounds. "You did this on purpose," he accuses when he can finally breathe properly again.

Jim props himself up on his hands over Bones who is sprawled on his back on the massive mahogany desk that sits in the far left corner of the room, looking down at the man beneath him with obvious exasperation. He is quite aware, with every new kiss and every new place their fingers manage to reach skin beneath red crisp uniform, that the desk is in plain view of anyone who decides to step into the lecture room. While Jim has always been infatuated with the flair and thrill of public sex, he has no disillusions at to the extent both of them would suffer for being caught.

"What?" he snaps back, pushing up off Leonard. "I was the one who suddenly accosted you after class in the freaking lecture hall that has a class in twenty minutes?"

Confusion briefly touches Leonard's eyebrows as the man sits up to stare at Jim. "No, I meant you wore those glasses—"

"I officially relinquish all rights to iever/i take any accusations from you of my supposed endless lack of sexual restraint," Jim declares and stand up with a huff, going about straightening his uniform back into perfect form. He reaches up to do the same to the crooked glasses on his nose but Leonard's hands are already there and their hands bump. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"I certainly hope not," Bones says with a chuckle and a twist of his mouth that makes Jim's cock throb for no real reason. Okay, so maybe he is a little loose with his sexual restraint – but Bones remains the extreme to which he can judge himself now. "All I need to do is find you looking into the mirror anymore than you already do." Leonard slides off the desk, onto the polished tiled floor with barely a whisper of fabric. Jim is a little annoyed at how already, without much effort, Bones isn't showing any outwards signs that he'd just molested a student.

"Right," Jim sighs with a hint of defeat. McCoy eyes him narrowly that speaks both of naked want and careful calculation. There isn't much of a sign beyond this before he's being dragged out of the room and into the near empty halls of the biology department. Anyone lingering around pays them no mind, seeing two fellow cadets who are most probably late for class and not a TA leading his student by the hand to his office to debauch said student. Jim spares a moment of reflection at just how scarily good Bones is at this whole secret teacher-student relationship thing. He is also, briefly, immensely jealous of just who it was that Bones was able to refine the skill with.

Any other thoughts on the matter didn't last much longer before they finally reach McCoy's office, who barely keys in the code with a glance and drags them both inside. Jim expects to be shoved down onto the couch or possibly the desk again but is shocked when Bones pulls him on top as they tumble onto the couch.

"I need you," Bones growls into Jim's ears as he tugs at Jim's fly and spreads his legs. "To fuck me."

Jim whimpers, kisses Leonard hard and desperate as his hands fumble over Leonard's fly in turn. Things become rather frantic as they desperately seek to rid themselves of pants and not much else. Jim is successful in getting rid of Bones, boots and all, due to single-minded determination. His own pants remain half-way down his thighs, however, because as soon as Jim's pants are gone and Bones' legs wrap around his waist, Jim finds he doesn't care much anymore.

Lube is found under the couch from their last use of it and preparation is as quick and half-hearted as their attempts at getting naked. Bones doesn't do anything that sounds like complaining when Jim sinks into him though, hazel-eyes feverish as he stares up at Jim who's glasses have been knocked to a crooked angle. Jim's head is half thrown back as he works his hips, breath fogging one lenses as its twin collects the sweat dripping off of Jim's nose.

"Oh, Jesus, iyes/i," Leonard hisses as he buries his hands into Jim's hair on either side of his head. Those bright blue eyes open and blink blearily at him and Bones comes.


	18. Without the Words

Title: Without the Words  
Word Count: 345  
Warnings:None

* * *

Jim's fingers are dragging the fabric of Leonard's pajama bottoms into his palm as he forms fists against Leonard's thighs. Jim can't remember how he'd gotten over here, leaning over Bones, how he'd gotten _so close_. Close enough that he had dared to touch. His thoughts are getting clogged, sluggish due to the thick air that he draws into his longs that's full of so much – the heat from their bodies, the anger tight in Bones' eyes, and the lust that swirls in between.

Both of them are solid, tense and unmoving and Jim's fingernails are digging into the flesh of Bones' thigh. It is the only connection between them and the only thing keeping Jim upright even though the piercing gaze Bones holds him in place, like an arrow through the heart. It pins him against the wall built between them and keeps him tethered, trapped. Keeps Jim from tearing that wall down brick by brick. Keeps Jim from spreading his palms flat against the thighs that had shivered under his touch so invitingly just seconds earlier, from moving them up to grip hips and pull Bones taut against him.

And then they snap, Bones grabs Jim roughly by the arms and tugs him forward and their mouths crash together. Bones' mouth is hard against his, teeth constantly catching on his lips and biting, angry and spiteful. Jim tries his best to take it, fighting back with the intensity of his apology, just has vehement in its sincerity as he sucks hard on Bones' tongue. 'Why, why do you keep doing this to me,' Bones says with the burn of his nails against Jim's neck. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry,' Jim pleads with the drag of his palms up Bones' thighs. Jim wishes they had to words to properly say these things but the wall stands firm between them, holding the words in his chest. All he can hope is that it's enough. That is enough they don't need to say the words to each other. 'I love you.'


	19. Number TwoHundred and Forty Five

Title: Number Two-Hundred and Forty Five  
Word Count: 486  
Warnings: None

* * *

Jim grunts and flails an arm about in an attempt to get a bearing on his situation. His arm comes into contact with a myriad of things that his half-asleep, hung-over mind can barely register. One feels vaguely like the shade of a lamp but could also be somebody's sombrero, another is the sleek wood of his headboard or possibly Bones' headboard or possibly the doors of Archer Hall, and the last is skin that's warm and smooth. His hand lingers there, splaying his fingers against a familiar expanse of back and searches until he finds it, the all too familiar mole that sits on Bones' right shoulder blade.

He sleepily drags his fingers over the spot before moving on as far as his arm can reach. It isn't very far, considering he is lying on his side opposite to Bones who is half way on the other side of the bed behind him. He reaches far enough to tug on an ear though, earning him a garbled, sleep-talk complaint. Jim decides it's a good idea to sit up to torment his sleeping lover further until, as soon as he reaches his head a foot off the bed, the world goes spinning and his head feels like it's gone concave.

"Ughhhnn," he groans as he drops back down into his pillow, which wasn't as great an idea as he had hoped for – only making his head hurt worse. There's suddenly an elbow in his ribs as Bones jerks awake as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water on him, gasping and surging up from the bed.

"Wuh?!" Bones almost shouts and Jim groans again, louder and longer. "S'time we've got ta' git those… things…" Jim turns his head slowly on his pillow to get a better look at Bones, who'd trailed off into a vague disgruntled silence for over a good minute now. Bones' hair is making a good effort at going in every direction, an especially attractive cowlick adorning one side of his head, and only makes the confused looks he's sending around the room adorable.

"Bones?" Jim whispers, not quite quiet enough to keep his head from aching at the sound. Bones turns toward him vaguely, obviously still mostly asleep even though his eyes are open. It is an advantage Jim is all too happy to take advantage of. "I'm really hung over," Jim explains and Bones nods as if he understands. "Could you maybe get me some water and a bucket and maybe a really big comfy blanket, please?"

"Sure," Bones replies and Jim almost cries in relief. He does cry a little though when Bones doesn't get up, doesn't even move from the spot he's in, just lays down half on top of Jim and starts snoring in his ear. On this morning, his two hundred and forty fifth time of making such a vow, Jim swears he'll never drink again.


	20. Bread

Title: Bread  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

"Bread is more complicated than it looks," Len says, kneading the dough with his knuckles. He'd forgotten the feeling. "It's a lot of patience and easy to mess up if you're not paying attention."

He expects a reply in the form of a witty retort of some kind but none is forthcoming. So, he stops, glances up and sees Jim. Jim who is carefully kneading his own smaller clump of dough, an expression of serious concentration on his face. There's flour on his nose. Their eyes meet across the counter and Jim smiles.

"I won't mess this up, Bones. Promise."


	21. Baking, Wealth

Title: Baking, Wealth  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

When Leonard brushes his hands down Jim's sides, he's unbelievably warm from the day spent baking in the sun. The sensation is addicting and Len can't help but press his hands closer. He drags them across Jim's back, his spine, up to his shoulder blades and then the column of his neck. When he reaches a wealth of golden hair, which caught not just the sun's warmth but its colour, he tugs tight and brings their mouths together.

Jim tastes like the summer and sweet grass. Leonard in comparison feels cold and bitter, stealing the warmth. But Jim doesn't complain.


	22. Accounting, Recognizable

Title: Accounting, Recognizable  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

"Accounting?" Bones tone is almost critical.

"What? It was interesting the way she talked about it—"

Bones' glare is recognizable even when you're not looking at it. Jim winces and turns with the most charming grin he has.

"Really." The tone is all sarcasm. "How big was her rack?"

Jim mimed the exaggerated size of the woman's breasts before shrugging it off. Bones still isn't pleased, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowing further. "Nothing happened," Jim says with another grin. "Especially when she took my husband into _account_." The joke is terrible, but the laughter is infectious.


	23. Devotion 1

Title: Devotion 1  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

When their fingers touch, there aren't sparks. When their lips meet, confessions of love do not spill forth. When he lies beside Jim and he wishes he could see their future, spread before them like book with each word to word, he can't. Sometimes, that's alright. Other times it hurts. They're connected by destiny, by time and space, but can never truly be each other's.

Jim will always belong to the stars and Leonard is sure he will always belong to Jim. Jim who cannot see it when their eyes meet. He can only see what they have between sheets.


	24. Couple, Translation, Expected

Title: Couple, Translation, Expected  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

When Len spies the happy couple he can't help the sigh. Uhura is smiling brighter than any of the monitors around her and even Spock seems to be smiling, but it's all in his eyes. He watches their hands lace delicately together, how Spock bends to press a light kiss on her forehead. Len turns and notices Jim across the mess who is watching the pair, too. Jim suddenly turns to look at Len and the translation of his expression must be painfully obvious because Jim frowns and turns away.

Len doesn't say a word, just walks away as expected.


	25. Assembly, Birth, Horrified

Title: Assembly, Birth, Horrified  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

It was a tidy assembly of novels. Jim had only just begun to become a true collector, taking great care in every new find he acquired. The novels were the newest addition. Bones stared at them, on their shelf above their bed and couldn't help but smile. He was well aware he was the proverbial father to the birth of Jim's obsession. How could he have guessed a simple, book poetry would invoke such inspiration in Jim? He was a little horrified, at first, when the shelf had been installed. Now, he was happy to have brought Jim such joy.


	26. Devotion 2

Title: Devotion 2  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

Leonard had never been one for comparisons of grandeur but it has never been more appropriate. Jim is grandeur, though; it would be unfair to think any other way. Leonard compares himself on a smaller scale, the battered shore to Jim's mighty ocean. He takes every wave from Jim, erodes and buckles under the pressure but he never yields. Curved against Jim and counting each breath like it's a promise Jim repeats over and over. Devotion, he thinks, as he is sure he'd rather be nowhere else. Patiently, reverently, he waits for the day when Jim takes all that he is.


	27. Memory

Title: Memory  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: Am I annoying anyone yet with all these uploads? BTW: swamud3a, you are a magnificent individual. Thank you very much.

* * *

He thinks of his memories as being kept in bottles. Bottles set upon rows of shelves, each individualistic in their design. Older ones have frosted glass of dark, murky colours like the dull shards he found on beaches as a child. Newer ones are clearer. They are kept in thin, breakable glass that sit precariously on the edge. Leonard thought of each person in his life as having a unique container. Spock had an amphora, plain and ceramic. Jim had the largest of all: a wide, often misshapen yet beautiful bottle of a rich varying blue. Jim was his favorite.


	28. Laughter

Title: Laughter  
Word Count: 101  
Warnings: None

* * *

"Shush," Leonard admonishes against his mouth but Jim can't help the bark of laughter that spills forth anyway, despite Bones' attempts to stop it. He can't help it, there's a bright eddy of pure joy in his chest and it wants _out_. Bones seems to know, seems feel it swell in Jim's chest, because his nimble fingers are dancing over his chest just above his heart where the ball burns. Jim finds himself so aware of love, so full that the laughter spills out again. Leonard ducks forward and tastes the laughter against his lips, savors the flavor across his tongue.


	29. Bad Day

Title: Bad Day  
Word Count: 172  
Warnings: None

* * *

Jim smile cracks then. He slouches back against Leonard's couch and tips his head, looking up to the ceiling. "I had a bad day," he admits, fingers curling in the fabric of Len's shirt where it landed on his shoulder. "It's been good, for a long while but today…God, today was just the worst."

He takes a deep shuddering breath and jumps a little when Bones' dry, cool hands cup his face and bring them closer. Bones' face fills his vision as their foreheads press together gently, the pull of their two bodies influenced by more than the tug of Bones' hands or anything either of them can control. "I'm sorry, Jim," Len says in a quiet voice that, without much effort, manages to drain the tension from Jim. "I can't go back and change your day but, I can make it better if you'd like."

"Yes, please," Jim sighs with a hint of a smile, and for the first time since they've started down this crazy new path with each other, he just gives into Bones.


	30. Sharply Seen

Title: Sharply Seen  
Word Count: 1,841  
Warnings: **NC-17 OUT THE HIZZAY, EXPLICIT EXPLICIT **

* * *

McCoy stumbled when Jim's hands connected, hard, with his shoulders. Jim was obviously angry, his blue eyes narrow slits on his flushed face and his mouth was a hard line, the corner of it twitching downward. There's a barely controlled energy in the taught set of his shoulders, his arms still suspended in the air from when he'd shoved Leonard. He curled his hands into tight fists and dropped them jerkily to his sides.

"On the bed," was the order. Jim's voice is steady, barely a tremor of the anger showing in it, and firm. Not a voice to be denied. So, Leonard quickly does as he's told and sat down heavily on their bed. His own breath is coming in short gasps, like he can't keep enough of it, and despite—for whatever he'd done wrong—that Jim is obviously _angry_ with him, he was getting hard.

Jim doesn't do anything for a minute, McCoy counts each second in time with the reckless beat of his heart. Jim just looked. His eyes moved over Bones' arms, his chest, down each leg and back up again until their eyes met. Leonard felt caught by the stare. It caused his heart to give a sudden jump, make his breath stutter and stall and provoked Jim into motion.

"Who was he?" Jim demanded as he strode forward. McCoy almost leant back, drew away from the anger drawing nearer, but he didn't. He held still. If just to watch Jim's nostrils flare and his fists clench tighter.

"Who?" McCoy asked, feeling incredibly small as Jim loomed over him. "If you mean Jerry—"

"_Jerry_," Jim repeated and leaned forward, one hand each on Leonard's thighs. "Who was he?" Jim's nails dug into the flesh of his thigh, through the material of his uniform pants.

"A CMO from the Valiant," he hastily explained, words crashing into each other in an effort to get out of his mouth. "He wanted to ask how different our medbays were and—"

"Why the fuck did he have to touch you then." It isn't a question. There isn't a bit of curiosity behind it. It's more an accusation that Jim is sure is the truth. McCoy doesn't have an answer anyway. He had no idea why Jerry had to touch him. Jerry was just that kind of person, who touched without asking. McCoy was used to it; they'd worked together back in the Academy frequently. Catching up had been fun. He'd never expected this kind of response from Jim, though.

"You're jealous," McCoy breathed and he does sit back now, to look up at Jim better. A smile tugged at his lips. "I can't believe you're jealous of _Jerry_."

Jim blinked and the tension drained from him minutely, his hands loosening their grip. McCoy felt the adrenaline begin to wean as well. He panicked, hardly wanting anything of the sort. This side of Jim was new. He wanted to explore it further.

"I mean, Jerry is a nice guy and all, good lookin' in his own way," Leonard continued in a slow drawl, diverting his eyes as if he was really considering what he was talking about. Jim's hands clenched on his thighs. "I've known him for a while. He's always had the nicest shoulders—"

That did it. Jim is in motion again, hands fisting in the fabric of McCoy's pants and yanking him forward. McCoy flailed over as his hips are dragged half off the bed and Jim leaned over him, shoving McCoy onto his back against the mattress. "Shut up," Jim bit out between his clenched teeth. McCoy relaxed as little as he dared so as not to show Jim that his little macho-show wasn't scaring him so much as turning him on, and carefully rested his thighs against Jim's legs.

Their position was drastically precarious as his hips hovered in the air but Jim gripped his ass hard and held him up. "Now, Jim," he panted and reached up to grab Jim's shoulders. "Jerry is just an old friend. I hadn't seen him since Academy, y'see. I missed—"

He doesn't get to finish. Jim has other ideas like kissing him hard enough to bruise and biting his lip between sharp teeth. Leonard gasped and immediately Jim took advantage, shoving his tongue into Leonard's mouth deep enough their teeth clicked. All he can breathe is Jim, who blew air into his mouth with each jab of his tongue making Leonard's lungs burn with the already-been-used air and what little air it was. Jim broke away with a sharp inhale. He hovered over McCoy, panting and eyes wild, and watched with hungry possessive eyes as Leonard struggled for air again.

"Jim," Leonard finally managed, digging his fingers into Jim's shoulders. Jim doesn't let him finish, though, and gripped Leonard's ass tighter and half tossed, half pushed him further onto the bed. He followed after, shirt coming off and over his head as he moved. McCoy felt frozen where he landed somewhere off center in the middle of the bed. Only able to watch as Jim stripped, revealing each flushed and tense piece of skin with harried jerks of fabric that would have left him wincing under normal circumstances.

Jim paused; half way out of his pants, with one knee still stuck in a pant leg, and looked up at Leonard. "Undress," Jim said his tone a mix of annoyance and amusement. Leonard doesn't have to be told twice. He all but ripped his uniform shirts off, tossing them to the mercy of the floor and started in on the fly of his pants.

Whatever patience Jim had left is gone now because he doesn't let Leonard finish and Jim just shoved his hands out of the way and yanked his fly open the rest of the way. Jim's pulling out Leonard's cock and giving it a few hard strokes, hand slick with lube already. He gasped, hips arching off the sheets only to be forced back down by a rough hand on his hip.

"Yeah, Bones, I was jealous," Jim hissed, voice as tight as the hand he had around Bones. "Seeing you all smiles with that guy again. He wanted you, back then, when we were at the Academy, you know." Leonard knew. He lifted his head to look at Jim, to tell him that he'd _never_ but the words catch in his throat. Jim is leaning over Leonard his head bent in concentration obscuring his face, with one hand on Bones' dick and the other is between his own legs. Past his balls and moving, shining wet with lube.

The groan that left his chest is wrenched from him, a broken needy sound. It caused Jim's head to jerk up, eyes catching that'd Leonard had been watching him and he stopped. Leonard's heart sped in anticipation as Jim moved. Watched as Jim moved one lean leg over Leonard's stomach and rested on his knees hovering over Leaonard. His hands automatically went up to grip Jim's hips, gripping hard.

"Jim," he panted and moaned as Jim balanced himself with one hand on Leonard's bicep as the other gripped Leonard's dick by the base. "Oh, _Christ_—" He felt the head of his dick brush between Jim's cheeks and then against the pucker of Jim's opening. Then Jim jerked his hips down, quick and sudden, and they both cried out together at the suddenness of the action.

Jim was a tight heat around him. Neither moved. Leonard panted and gripped Jim's hips hard enough to bruise as he fought both against his orgasm that suddenly threatened to overtake him and fought against the need to move, to fuck Jim hard. Jim was in his own state above him, hands gripping at Leonard's thighs behind him as he panted and adjusted to the feel of Bones inside him.

"You know what I wanted to do?" Jim asked suddenly and the sound of his voice made Leonard jerk his hips upward. "Fuck—Bones, fuck. I wanted to grab you, right there," he continued, finally blessedly moving above Leonard. He lifted his hips upward in one, slow draw before slamming his hips back down. "I wanted to grab you and shove you against that bar—"

It was all Leonard could do to not rush things. To hold Jim still as he fucked him hard over him. Instead he bit his lip and held on, tried to focus on whatever it was Jim had to say. "I wanted to fuck you right there, Bones, in front of his smug fucking face," Jim hissed and slammed his hips down in rapid succession in three sharp jerks. He gasped and stopped, as if it was all he could do to not continue on that pace. "Who was it that was sitting there beside you?"

Leonard groaned, "Spock and Uhura and—"

"Ah, and Chekov," Jim finished, a smirk curling his lips. "Wanted to fuck you right there in front of all of them," he continued on the slow, hard pace. "To let them all know you're _mine_. Let them all see how hard I can make you come with just my dick up your ass. I wouldn't even have to touch you, would I, Bones?"

"Oh, god, no, no you wouldn't," McCoy babbled, "I can't, Jim—"

"No, Bones, you can," Jim growled and leaned forward to grip Leonard's shoulders, hovering with the head of Leonard's dick just barely inside him. "Because you're _mine_, Bones. You're mine."

"Yours, goddamnit, Jim, always yours," Bones just barely managed to choke out and then Jim is moving again, fast and hard. Leonard grunted and watched. Moved his hands from Jim's hips across to his thighs, spreading them wider and watched. "God, Jim, I'm gonna—" He swallowed the words and reached for Jim's dick, a swollen neglected red.

Jim whimpered, eyes wrenched shut and dug his nails into Leonard's shoulders, hips working only in deep erratic thrusts—rhythm long lost. "C'mon, Bones, come," Jim ordered though the tone was more strangled now. It had the same effect, though, because Leonard is coming, holding Jim still above him as he thrusted his hips jerkily up into Jim as his orgasm coursed through him.

The world briefly goes black before he came back to reality, sweat and something sticky cooling on his chest. Beside him Jim is sitting cross-legged and watching him. "Fuckin' hell, Jim," Bones groaned, rolling over towards his lover. "Anytime you want to get jealous again, go ahead."

"Thanks, will do, Bones," Jim replied with a grin, the jealous creature from before vanished without a trace. He reached over and pushed his hand into Leonard's hair. "I love you."

Leonard smiled, and it was a mixture of tired and sated. "I love you, too," he said, exhaustion leaking into his voice. He used what little energy he had left to sit up to kiss Jim. He'd have to thank Jerry later and pay up the fifty creds. Wasn't such a lousy bet to lose afterall.


	31. enforced, excluding

Title: Enforced, excluding  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: None

* * *

"You are possibly the biggest mother hen that has ever clucked," Jim declared as he dropped his PADD smack center on top of McCoy's. The memo read iDr. McCoy's strictly enforced dietary plan for Cpt. J T Kirk is as follows/i in large print with a short list following.

"Excluding the fact you probably haven't ever seen a real live chicken in your life," Bones drawled as he handed Jim back the PADD with a sweet smile. "I would really rather avoid the mess that happened last week. Remember, Jim, the sesame?"

Jim frowned, huffed and turned on his heel.


	32. capable, consequence, derived

Title: capable, consequence, derived  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: Mirror!verse, implied oral sex

* * *

It was of little consequence. A detail often overlooked, one missed by casual eyes. The way Kirk looked at McCoy was hardly casual, though. With capable hands he drew them roughly up quivering thighs. McCoy's breath hitched his chest heaving and his head thrown back as he struggled in the restraints.

Jim could see where the doctor's pleasure truly derived from. Not in the restraints or bonds that held him. No, Jim was sure, as McCoy's head lifted up just in time for his eyes to catch Jim's mouth descent on his cock—it was something far simpler: Jim's mouth.


	33. fuzzy, encounter, dealt

Title: fuzzy, encounter, dealt  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: implied oral sex, for realsies this time

* * *

The coarse drag of their "fuzzy," as Jim had put it, navels was still something Leonard was getting used to. As each encounter between them--between sheets and passion and too many kisses-- became more regular, he grew used to each unique sensation that came not just from being with a _man_ but from being with **Jim**. It was a singular occurrence indeed. The sort Leonard heard Jim used to brag about, but no such conquests of his own variety ever reached his ears. He dealt with this as it should be properly handled: with hastily snuck blowjobs between classes.


	34. clever, stir, focus

Title: clever, stir, focus  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: notta

* * *

What is the focus supposed to be?" Leonard tilts his head to the left, then decides against that and tilts it to the right.

"Don't be clever," Jim scolds as he fiddles with the frame for the tenth time in two minutes.

"I'm just saying the layout is predictable, doesn't stir any emotion—"

Jim turns slowly around to give Bones an exasperated look. "I shouldn't have asked you to help me hang photos," he realizes and crosses his arms.

"Definitely not," Bones replies with an eye roll. "Especially not at 3 am and _naked_. Let's go back to bed."


	35. desperate, rolling, compliment

Title: desperate, rolling, compliment  
Word Count: 100  
Warnings: notta

* * *

He reached for it, knocked it loose and sent it rolling away. "Damnit," he cursed and chased after it. It kept rolling on, bouncing off rocks and disappearing into another bush. Desperate, he shoved both hands into the offending shrubbery fingers frantically searching out—

"I found the last one!" came from the other side of the bush, following by the leave-infested curls of Joanna McCoy. She beamed at Jim, the look only slightly evil, pink egg in hand.

"Oh, good job, Joey," Jim sighed, the compliment half-hearted. Second year in a row, he'd been beaten out by a little girl.


	36. Transverse

Title: Transverse  
Word Count: 230  
Warnings: notta

* * *

Jim counts them when he's sure Bones isn't paying attention, during the rare opportunities that Jim gets to stare at him without being caught. The freckles are pale, just barely brown in the right light, and spread in a pattern Jim hasn't quite figured out yet.

On sleepy mornings, when there's sun sneaking in through the slats of their blinds, Jim feels like a child. He wishes for a pen snug between his fingers so that he can connect each freckle with a line. The line would crisscross across countries of warm skin, over the planes of Bones' shoulder blades and around the smooth edge of his shoulders. He'd follow them up from there, along the pronounced line of his collar bone, up the column of his neck to the soft juncture of ear and then along his jaw to cheeks slightly flushed red.

Bones blinks at him, still half asleep, and his eyelashes brush against the back of Jim's finger. He couldn't say that these freckles are his favorite thing about Bones. They're near the top, each one holding the place in his heart individually from the one on the inside of Bones' ankle to the one just in the right corner of his lips. The freckles are more like the roadmap to all Jim's favorite things about Bones—his smile, his eyes, his heart, and everything in between.


	37. Honey

Title: Honey  
Word Count: 273  
Warnings: a distinct lack of Jim

* * *

It's really hot out. The Georgia air is thick and heavy, making its presence known in the heavy roll of sweat down their necks.

There isn't a particularly special about the day, a Tuesday in early August. Joanna is sitting on the steps of the porch, watching the dragonflies buzz through the tall grass. Everything moves lazily, moving through the thick golden, sticky air. It reminds her of the slow drip of honey into her Nana's tea every afternoon, of the pull of your finger through thick molasses.

The hands in her hair are warm and sure. They're familiar, really big when they wipe the sweat off the back of her neck. But they never pull or knot her hair, they're gentle. The hands promise piggyback rides and band-aids on skinned knees. They promise of softly spoken stories and hugs on rainy nights.

"Papa?" she asks softly and the hands still, the heavy drop of her hair in a neat plait thumping against her back. Something she didn't intend must have been in her voice because the hands are hot under her armpits and lifting her easily from the hard stair.

"Baby?" her father asks and it is deep grumble like thunder against her back. The knee under her makes her sweat, but she's more comfortable despite it. She smiles up at him and it's easy.

"Thank you," she says, unsure if it's what her daddy is looking for. He smiles anyway and it is just as sweet as the honey she's been thinking of. Everything can be perfect, in the thick heat of the summer, as long as she has her Papa.


	38. Bowel Sounds

Title: Bowel Sounds  
Word Count: 310  
Warnings: drunkness

* * *

"You shouldn't have eaten that burrito or had any of that shitty beer," Bones says from somewhere around his stomach. Jim lifts his head up slightly with as little effort as he could manage to not exert. After just getting home from a birthday party they technically weren't even really invited to, Jim had every right to be worn out. Much to his dismay, Bones wasn't feeling the whole 'satisfyingly tired from a good party time' (as a drunk Gaila had put it just before they left).

"What makes you say that?" he asks as he watches Bones shifts around and all of a sudden he's got Bones' head on his stomach. Jim makes a face, sitting up onto his elbows to look down at Bones.

"Your bowels are saying 'why did this idiot eat that burrito?'" Bones translates and meets Jim's wry look with complete seriousness. "'And that beer was disgusting and totally watered down, I hope Jim likes shitting his brains out at oh-five hundred this morning.'"

"What, you speak bowel noises now?" Jim asks, amused. He wasn't drunk enough for this but apparently Bones was.

Bones pushes up off his belly with a huff. "Of course I speak bowel noises, Jim," he drawls before leaning over Jim's belly again and blowing a loud, wet raspberry into his skin. Jim gives a sharp gasp and squeak-like-noise in surprise, quickly dissolving into breathless laughter as Bones begins to add tickling fingers into the mix. He weakly presses against Bones' head to make him stop.

He finally does stop, breaking away from Jim and flopping down beside him with a satisfied sound. Jim pants and stares up at the ceiling wide eyed. His stomach is a mess of Bones' spit now, thoroughly abused from both tongue and fingers. "You suck," he accuses without much venom but Bones is already asleep.


	39. closet conversation

"It seems like a great idea," Jim says the end of his sentence coming out like a groan.

Bones makes a half-hearted sound of response deep in his throat but it's more satisfaction than agreement, his tongue too occupied at the moment for words.

"But Spock seems to think—"

"Jim," Bones snaps, mouth a ruined red. "Remember the _rules_?"

Jim's scoff comes out across Bones' cheek. "Yeah, I do," he says and his tone is too smart so Bones grinds his knee _up_ and Jim gives a full body jerk. "But it's a two way street, Bones."

Bones does pull back at that as it is necessary to get the full brunt of his scorn across. "What're you implying exactly?"

Jim takes the advantage to sneak his hands into Bones' pants but his mouth is still talking, even as his hands wrap tight around Bones' cock. "We agreed, also, that you wouldn't use sex to distract me from my captainly duties."

The hiss comes out through Bones' teeth, "I am _not_." Any other protest dies when Jim gets their cocks aligned, finds a messy rhythm.

"Bones," Jim groans, loud and long. "It's the middle of beta shift. We're in a supply closet," he has to pause to figure out how to breathe and speak at the same time before he continues, indignation a thing of the past, "you grabbed me on my way to the bridge."

There's silence as muscles work, fingers pump and blood pressure soars. Bones hears the distant roar in his ears as he comes. Jim is making a faraway sound of his own as orgasm overtakes him. Slowly they both come down one at a time, back to the reality of the dimly lit supply closet on deck ten. Neither of them feel the necessity of reigniting the argument.

Jim opens his mouth, intending to either kiss or compliment Bones on a duty well done, when there's the distinct sound of a whistle outside of their temporary haven. "Bridge to Captain Kirk, please report."

Bones' bark of laughter breaks them from their revere and they both spill out of the small space.

"Sorry to have jumped you like that."

"No, it's fine I needed a break, besides nothing like a proper orgasm to restart the brain and really get the synapses firing."

"So you've come to terms that your idea is absolute shit?"

"Yes, thank you for your excellent consul. I will be sure to tell Spock you're responsible for this stroke of genius."

Bones laughs again, gives Jim the unexpected pleasure of a PDA kiss in the middle of the hall and walks away.


	40. RED AU

this is a drabble for a possible full-blown AU set to the theme of the movie RED, which Karl Urban recently starred in.

kind of necessary for you to have seen the movie...I guess? the idea is that McCoy is Bruce Willis' character and Jim is Mary-Louise Parker's character.

* * *

"Okay, okay," Jim's voice is warm from barely contained laughter and just as breathy. Len takes a deep breath at that thought and lets it out with a hand over the phone mouthpiece. "You can't tell me you don't see the homoerotic subtext going between the sergeant and the medic!"

Len lets out a laugh of his own, no snooping floor managers in his house to hear him and catch him on it unlike in Jim's office. "What? What about the babe translator?" he asks, playing dumbfounded.

Jim sees, or in this case hears, through it immediately. "Don't give me that sh—crap, man," he says huffily. Len imagines colour staining his cheeks. Whatever those cheeks may look like. "Sure, supposedly the translator-babe is his love interest but!-" Len laughs. "But! Sarge and the medic touch each other _so freaking much_."

"Yeah," Len says still laughing, "I guess they do."

"There isn't anything to guess there, Bones," the kid retorts. "I should just write a letter to this author, Mr. Reynolds. A letter of notification because he really needs to wake up and face the light outside his closet of overtly-homoerotic-scifi war novels."

And that's all it takes for Len to start laughing all over again.

"Honestly!"

"Jim," Len breathes as he finally catches his breath from that bout of laughter. "Knowing how the publishing world works, there's a good chance that Mr. Reynolds is actually _miss_."

Jim makes a thoughtful noise, followed by a pause of silence. "You think she's hot?"

Len chuckles and shifts the phone from one ear from the other. "Whether Sarge and Medic are gay or not," he says with a pointed snort, "how are you enjoying this book?"

"Oh, it's dreadful," Jim bemoans and there's a clatter in the background and Len imagines Jim leaning forward noisily on his elbows, head hanging. "Absolute tripe but," Jim sighs and it's almost dopey, "it's got really good action and—man, like I am so living vicariously."

"There are worst ways to do it," Len says, earning himself a laugh that is hastily cut off. "Good god, Jim, the harpy didn't catch you again did she?"

"No," Jim answers quietly. "Just, that one earned me a few looks. Speaking of," this causes Len to glance at the clock on his wall—they've been talking for two hours now, "I should probably get back to work."

"Yeah, you probably should."

An awkward pause spread between them, the entire distance between rural Georgia and Des Moines.

"Well, uh, Bones," Jim says uncertainly. "I'm glad you called. Again."

Len huffs and rubs the bridge of his nose roughly with his thumb, feeling a headache come on suddenly. "Me too, Jim," he says, "maybe the check will come next time."

Jim snorts. "Probably not," he admits with chuckle that melts all the awkwardness immediately. "Talk to you again…soon?"

"Definitely," Len says and untucks the receiver from between his jaw and shoulder and drops it onto the cradle with a clack. After that, the silence of his empty house echoes the sound of Jim's voice back at him but it isn't the same. Never really is.


End file.
